


Bad Day? (Bad Pencil)

by TheExplodingPen



Series: James Bond Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Cuddles, Fluff, M/M, Q's tired, baths, bond is helpful, it's just really cute okay, mechanical pencil, motor issues, sleepy!Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheExplodingPen/pseuds/TheExplodingPen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gratuitous exhausted!Q fluff.</p><p>00Q prompt: mechanical pencil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Day? (Bad Pencil)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBritishGovernment](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBritishGovernment/gifts).



Q huffed, collapsing back into his chair as he stared at the pencil on his desk. There were a few pieces of shattered graphite lying next to it, and his fingers were absolutely covered in the stuff, leaving blackish smudges on his temples when he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Bloody faulty pencil,” he muttered, wiping his fingers on his trousers. He barely heard Bond come up behind him, but he did feel the hands that settled on his shoulders, and the thumbs that dug lightly into the tightly wound muscles of his back.

“Bad day?”

“Bad _pencil_.”

Bond bit back a chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to Q's curls. “When was the last time you got some sleep, love?”

Q opened his mouth to answer, paused, and then ducked his head, letting out a sigh. “Three nights ago,” he said to his chest, going limp under Bond's continued ministrations. “But that's not it. I've had enough tea to keep me going for at least another twenty hours, if not longer, and it's just a damn pencil, not the bloody Palace.”

“And it's giving you a good deal of grief.” Bond's fingers moved down Q's back, deftly massaging at the muscles on either side of his spine. “You need a long, warm bath, and your pajamas, and at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.”

“Five.”

“Ten,” Bond countered, pulled Q's chair back away from his desk. “And if you keep arguing, the number will go up.”

Petulantly, Q got to his feet, his eyelids feeling absurdly heavy. “Fine. But you can't expect me to be happy about it.”

An hour later, Q pressed himself back against Bond's chest, his eyes closed and his hair still slightly damp. “Still not happy about it,” he mumbled, the sentence trailing off into a yawn as Bond wrapped one arm around his chest. He trapped it there with his own, his exhaustion finally catching up with him as his body relaxed.

*

When he awoke, twelve hours and twenty-two minutes later, Bond was gone, but he heard the sounds of the shower coming from the bathroom. Groaning quietly, Q stretched, wincing as he ran a hand through his hair and caught his fingers on a rat's nest of knots. “Dammit, James,” he muttered, rolling over to fumble for his glasses. “I've told you not to let me fall asleep with my hair wet.” 

He found his glasses and put them on blindly, flicking on the light as soon as he could see. He reached for his phone, but his hand paused halfway, warmth blooming in his chest and a smile creeping onto his face as he look at the nightstand. 

More importantly, at the mechanical pencil all wrapped up neatly in a bow, and noticeably much fuller of graphite.

**Author's Note:**

> So, [TheBritishGovernment](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBritishGovernment/pseuds/TheBritishGovernment) was complaining about a mechanical pencil and asked for 00Q fluff, and I was needing to write some fluff, so.... yeah. This is what happened.


End file.
